Tattle-telling

Posted on 08 Oct 2023 @ 9:26pm by Captain Bane Plase

1,382 words; about a 7 minute read

Mission: Outbreak

ON:

Bane sat down in his chair in his office just off the Bridge and exhaled deeply. Today had turned out quite differently than he had anticipated. Not less than an hour ago, he was making his way to the Tashi's office to have breakfast with her. They had planned on going over the logistics of continuing First Contact. Things like Lieutenant Bast helping out with the operational side of things and Dr. Elodin and his staff helping with the pandemic ravaging the populace. Lieutenant Seitha helping with keeping control and order as society suffered from the decreased manpower and Lieutenant Spangler running point on helping to improve the local medical technology without giving away additional technology to them. Bane and Larsen working with Tashi and the leadership guild (as well as Starfleet) to create a permanent embassy on the planet. In the following hour from that moment, he had been recalled to the ship, found out that some stupid human virus was killing off the entire population of the people, that he and the Cygnus were responsible, and that today may just very well be the first day of the end of his career in Starfleet.

He let that thought sink in for a moment. The end of his career in Starfleet. Things had been going so well, too. He was extremely happy with his command staff, very happy to be off a capital ship and back into a science and exploration role. He was happy with the missions they were being given. He was happy with his life again, probably for the first time since his beloved wife, Suzette, had been killed, way back when he commanded the Pegasus-D. The thought of losing this life saddened him greatly.

Exhaling heavily, he tapped the command on his desk to bring up the holographic image of a computer terminal. Long gone were the days of an actual physical laptop on the desk, then the hideaway screen that slid under the top of the desk when not in use. He supposed this was the way of the future, and accepted it. Still, it was a little disconcerting to be able to see through the screen and to the rest of the room at large. A moment later, he was connecting to Starfleet Command, specifically to Rear Admiral Brexx, his immediate superior officer. How he wished it were Admiral Savok, his former first officer.

"Hello Captain Bane. I have been in contact with your First Officer while you have been on the planet conducting First Contact. He tells me everything is going perfectly to plan," he said. Then a warm smile came over his face. "Captain, I have to apologize to you," he began.

Bane attempted to stop him. "Admiral, I..."

"Please Plase," the Admiral said, using Bane's given name. It bristled Bane greatly. For Bajorans, using a given name was something only people intimate with each other, such as family members, lovers, and friends did, as was custom on Bajor. "Allow me to finish. I haven't given you a fair shake. I have, naturally, read over your file. You have been a great officer and a strong ally to the Federation and her ideals for the majority of your adult life. Sure, there are a few blemishes," he said, alluding to the destruction of the Pegasus and the recent failed mission with the Crystalline Entity. "But that does not excuse my disposition towards you since you were placed under my command. So, I am sorry. It takes a great deal for an Admiral to apologize and admit when they are wrong," he said, a laugh in his throat, threatening to escape.

If this call had happened two hours ago, this would have been a proverbial feather in Bane's cap. As it were, each word that the Admiral spoke was rubbing salt into a gaping wound. Bane put his head down and pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing along the ridges softly, soothingly, his eyes closed. Without looking back up, or even opening his eyes, he responded to the Admiral.

"Admiral, I regret to inform you that there has been a catastrophic failure here at Antioch III."

Bane didn't see it, but the smile immediately left the Admiral's face. "Go on, Captain," he said, emphasizing the Bajoran's rank.

"It seems," he began, looking up at the Admiral. Bane noted that a shadow had come over the Admiral's face. "That we have mistakenly infected the Antiocian population with a nearly-extinct human disease. My Chief Medical Officer called it "the common cold" among humans. It is clearly very deadly to the Antiocian people. Before we knew we were the cause, we had already begun to help the Antiocians with the pandemic, and it is a pandemic," he added for emphasis, "with medical care, boosting their medical abilities so far as to not break the Prime Directive, helping with security and policing and organizational assistance on a planetary scale, as best we can with our crew compliment."

The Admiral looked at the Captain for several moments, the color of his eyes that of steel, his jaw set hard. "It would seem, Captain, that my apology was not warranted in the slightest, but we will deal with that later. For now, the lives on that planet take precedent. Have you identified how you infected that planet? Did you take shuttlecraft down before ensuring that those that were going down were completely free of infection?"

Plase shook his head. "No sir. It was a transporter malfunction that was not caught until it was too late. It didn't help that there was a planetary annual celebration going on when we arrived and made First Contact. My Chief Operations Officer believes this helped to spread the contagion to every part of the globe."

"You will be sure to reprimand your Chief Engineering Officer and Executive Officer for not ensuring that all the systems on your ship were not at peak efficiency during a critical mission."

Bane really did bristle at this. "Admiral, with respect, the functionality and efficiency of this ship, at the end of the day, rests with me alone. I accept that blame fully. My officers will be dealt with on a ship level."

The Admiral nodded. To Bane, it seemed he had just played into the Admirals hands. "Very well Captain. The blame rests with you, and so it shall." He swiveled in his chair. "Can you help those people? Do we need to send additional medical ships to assist?"

Plase shook his head. "I don't think we need additional ships. Since it is a virus we are well aware of, we should be able to synthisize a cure for them pretty rapidly. Unfortunately, the death toll is nearing 25% of the population."

"Sweet Imrag," the Admiral said, invoking one of the Bolian peoples gods, "Captain, you know society breaks down at 11% mortality, don't you?"

"Yes, Admiral, I am very aware. My Anthropological Officer told me as much shortly ago," Bane responded, referring to Lieutenant Lisald. "That is why we have all hands possible helping with everything on the planet, at the request of their Tashi. We will have this fixed as best we can, Admiral, next time we talk."

"You better, Captain. Starfleet Command, out."

Bane sat back in his chair. He had just taken a beating, even if everything hadn't been said. So much was left unsaid, and that is what mattered. Bane's career was all but over. The only salvation he had was to ensure they helped the poor people on the planet. He idly wondered for a moment who would command the Cygnus after him. Would it be Larsen? Would they change their minds about where they were sending him? Bane doubted it, for Larsen would, unfortunately, get rolled up with this mess as much as Bane, being he was the second in command. He pushed the thought out of his mind.

For now, he needed to pay a visit to the Tashi. He looked forward to this meeting even less than he did with Starfleet, for he was about to come clean with her, that they were to blame for all this death and disruption in their society.


OFF

Bane Plase, Captain
USS Cygnus, Commanding

 

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